Resistance
by Lilac Gemani
Summary: Prince Link is sick of his life. Being a prince is the most boring thing on the planet. Not only that, but the monster population is steadily rising, and his ministers couldn't stop arguing for three seconds. However, as always, Link's got a plan. And it'll be fun. Rated T for language and gore.
1. Prologue

On the edge of the forest, the westernmost side of Faron, was a cottage. It contained a small family of two, a husband and wife, who lived contently off the land. He hunted and traded in the city, while she sewed clothing and tended to the small garden on the edge of the wood. They were happy, and had all they needed.

One night, however, Celia's belly bulged. Just a bit, but it was there. The couple was delighted. They'd never had a child before.

Nine months later, a little boy came into the world. He had little pointy ears and a little growth of blonde hair. At first, his parents knew not what to name him, but after the little Triforce on his hand pulsed, Celia's head snapped up. "Link," she whispered. That was it.

Maes and Celia knew the importance of their bloodline, and knew how they had to protect it. When the Goddesses named the boy Link, though, they knew. They knew what he would become, and what he would endure. So they sought to protect him, and make sure that he could at least grow up peacefully.

Their attempts, of course, were futile.

One night, Maes heard a loud _thump. _Looking out the window, he saw a flash of red, and upon a bit more search, was met with gold. Suddenly, the window shattered. With a startled yelp, he pulled from the impact, holding a hand in front of Celia as she rushed up. "Celia," he called, a determined edge to his voice, "take Link. Get out the back door and run, run as fast as you can. I'll stall him; you just need to get away."

"But...But what about you?" Celia whimpered. She was afraid of the consequences of her husband's , but she knew it was for the best. But she needed to try.

"I told you, I'll stall him! Get out! Run! Now!"

With a fearful sob, Celia spun around and raced over to her son, scooping him up and racing to the back door. She closed her eyes as she heard a _shing_, then multiple clangs and suddenly... silence. A deafening, ear-piercing silence. As she freely let her sobs wrack her small frame and echo throughout the forest, laughing followed her, tripping her up and throwing her off course. The whole dash was made with a constant mantra in her thoughts:

_Escape...Escape...Maes didn't die in vain...Escape..._

The widow's chant was cut short with a cry as her foot caught on a root. "Dammit," she whispered fiercely, scrambling back up. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

As soon as she was up again Celia continued sprinting. Her heart was running a marathon, her lungs screamed at her for air, and her legs were cramping up, but to none of these did she stop. She had to save her son, and by Din, she would succeed!

That thought gave her a burst of speed, and on she went. Little did she expect, though, that her attacker had allies.

Allies with arrows.

A gasp was torn from her lips as a sharp, burning pain embedded itself into her back, forcing her to the ground. With her last shuddering breaths, Celia curled herself around her baby, one last attempt at his safety. Her oxygen intake grew shallow, and eventually stilled. Her features were frozen with a desperate, ferocious scowl.

Deep laughter sounded behind the corpse as the archers drew away. A dark figure sauntered up to the deceased mother, his gold eyes glinting in the pale moonlight. "Ah, run, run, little deer," he cooed. "Run from the wolf... Run with the vain hopes of escape... And fall!"

Stooping over, he unceremoniously unwrapped the woman's arms and removed her from the child. He was strangely quiet, the man noted, and supposed he just hit his head in the fall. With a shrug, the attacker scooped the boy up, cradling him in the crook of his left elbow.

"Shh, little Hero," he cooed, "Father's here."


	2. Chapter I

**A/N: Oh, I'm good at this updating thing, aren't I?**

**Sorry about the long wait... Haven't seen my beautiful laptop in forever...**

**Thanks to BornALegend for the helpful information! You guys have a better story because of it**

**Enough with the excuses! Go! Read! Scoot!**

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><p>Link sighed, resting his elbows on the parapet of his balcony. He was so damn <em>bored - <em>the infernal feeling was all he ever felt. There was nothing to do, ever. He hated it.

There was a light knock on the door. "Prince Link?" a feminine voice called out. "It is time for your meeting with the Council."

Link sighed again. Council meetings were the worst. They were basically a bunch of old lords and ladies fighting about inconsequential things, like his impending visits from princesses seeking his hand in marriage. Like he was going to go marry some stuffy, overdressed girl with too much makeup. Please.

Unfortunately, however, his father, King Ganondorf, spent the majority of his time away. Whether it be to meet with treaty members or attending a coronation, he was always gone. Honestly, Link missed him. His father had taught him how to swim, ride a horse, shoot a bow, and swing a sword. All quality time, spent bonding and simply doing things.

It was better than Council meetings.

"Coming," Link called to the maid, hearing the light taps of her shoes as she hurried off. Straightening up, he allowed himself a frustrated grumble before putting on his regal mask and leaving the room. As he strode down the hall, nodding at various guards and maids along the way, he wondered about what the ministers were going to rant about this time. Probably what to have for dinner...

Upon arriving, the Prince listlessly noted he was the last one there. Uncaring, he approached his chair and sat down.

The room was large and spacious. Tall windows lined the walls, each with a tapestry of the Hylian royal crest, a symbol of a magnificent gold phoenix crowned by the Triforce. In the center of the room was a long and narrow table, big enough to fit eight people - three on either side and two at the ends.

To Link's left sat Lorene Hovenoff, Minister of Foreign Affairs. She was open and willing to compromise, attributes that were incredibly easy to work with and marked her as the Prince's favorite. She had long black hair that was often pinned up with white rose barrettes and exposed her ears. Her eyes were a light brown and her nose had a cute of bump in the middle (Link loved teasing her about it - she got so flustered). Her mouth was thin and tinted rose. She supported Link and was easy to talk to.

Across from her was Ieena Dathe, Minister of State Affairs. She was tall and had a bad habit of looking down her pointed nose when speaking to people. Her light gray hair was done up in a neat bun at the top of her head with contrasting bright hazel eyes and thin lips. She was serious and proud.

Next to Ieena huddled Thorin Takean, the short Minister of the Treasury. His brown hair was parted perfectly down the middle, with a slight curl at the ends. He had the same manner as his council mate, staring down his beak like nose the best he could (and was overly serious about everything). His green eyes were intelligent and his constantly frowning lips were stern. Link wasn't particularly fond of him.

Diagonally from the vertically challenged man was Kollin Hombart, the tolerable Minister of Military Affairs. He was one the Prince could work with, and was somewhat similar to Lorene. He was calm and collected, red hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His right eye was covered by an eye patch and his only visible blue one seemed to pierce into your very soul. The man was intimidating, to say the least.

Beside him prayed Vardell Yanan, the Minister of Religious Affairs. His gray hair and drooping chocolate eyes gave him a look of depression, only strengthened by his slanted eyebrows and frown. His nose was large and round. The minister was calm and quiet in most things (except praying. Praying was his passion.) and took everything said about the three Golden Goddesses, Din, Farore, and Nayru, very seriously. Link always acted a bit gentler around the man; it seemed as though simply raising your voice could cause him to shatter.

Last (and most certainly least) loomed Orville Conlin, the stuffy and incredibly rude Minister of Judicial Affairs. Link was almost positive the tall, blonde Lord was paid to decide whether or not a person was guilty of a crime. His long hair was also in a ponytail, and his cold, blue-gray eyes bored into your every move. He was smart, observant, and cunning. A formidable foe, in the world of politics. He seemed to oppose the prince's every move, and Link was honestly sick of having to rephrase every little statement to fit his fancy.

"Alright," Link said tiredly. "You may begin."

"Your Highness," Ieena began. "We need to discuss the problem of the increasing amount of monsters in the country."

Ah. So it wasn't a trivial subject after all.

"Multiple sightings have been reported of ugly green things with red eyes called bulbins," she continued. "They've been raiding smaller villages on the outskirts of Hyrule. I don't know about you, but I think this is something we need to take action for."

"the question is," Lorene cut in, "what should we do about it?"

"Obviously, we need to send the army after them," Thorin scoffed. "The threat must be eliminated before anything else."

"Yes," Kollin countered, "but what if the castle was attacked? Who would defend it then?"

"Well, we could send small groups after them," Vardell offered.

"What if they're not enough?" Orville replied. "We have no idea how many of these _bulbins_ are in each raid party. What if we don't have enough for each? The soldiers would be annihilated! We can't have that!"

"Good point," Lorene agreed reasonably. "We need to know how many there are, average. Then we could tell what to do."

"But how'll we find that out? Send one spy to each village?" Ieena offered.

"No, what if they're killed during the attack? Then how'll we find out?" Lorene responded.

_Hm, _Link mused, his eyes closed and his chin in the palm of his hand as he silently listened to their argument. _They're getting along uncharacteristically well today. I wonder why..._

"Your Highness?" Vardell called. "What do you think?"

Cracking open an eye, he replied immediately. "We should send a group of sixteen to each village. They can send two of them to report after an attack, and there are fourteen left to defend the people. If there are complications, the messengers can inform us, and we'll have a group ready to go immediately. Of course, we'll have to have at least one group for each site, depending on the problem and amount of enemies. But that shouldn't be too hard. After all, we have the largest army in the world. We can spare a few hundred men."

The ministers were impressed, to say the least. While they had been discussing whether or not to even send soldiers, he had come up with an entire plan. No wonder he was so highly acclaimed by the army.

"That's a really good idea," Lorene stated. "All in favor, say 'aye'."

Several 'ayes' resounded through the room.

"Okay," she said, satisfied. "All opposed, say 'nay'."

A single 'nay' was heard.

Lorene sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, Conlin, what is it?"

"Well," the stubborn minister began, well aware of the prince's annoyed eyes on him. "I don't think we can manage the help groups. How can we keep men well-rested and alert at all times?"

"Well, Prince Link _did _suggest to have multiple groups ready at a time. They could take shifts." Thorin offered.

"What if we can't spare that many men?"

"Please," Kollin scoffed. "Also covered by the Prince. Our army is the largest in the world, did you forget? Seems like you're loosing your touch, Conlin."

Orville scowled. "Fine! I still think it's wrong, but if you want to go getting our men killed, be my guest. Don't come running to me if this _plan_ fails!"

Abruptly standing, the minister began to march out of the room. However, Link saw his bluff and decided to call it. "Ah," he said calmly. "I don't believe I've released you yet, Minister."

Orville froze. Quickly, he came up with something. "Oh?" he replied without a stutter. "I was sure you had."

Grinning, the Prince finished the job. "But I didn't. Now, why don't you just come sit down here? We're all waiting, that's when you can leave."

With a sufficiently crushed dignity, Orville took a deep breath and, with a venomously sweet smile, sauntered back over to his chair.

"Good. Meeting adjourned."

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><p>"That damn boy!"<p>

"Sir," the butler began with a sigh. Lord Conlin was always like this when he returned to his private manor. "Please..."

"I can't stand him! Ahh, the arrogance! The conceit! It sickens me!"

"Milord. You must stop this."

"No! I will never like him! Never!"

"I didn't say you had to like him. You just have to watch what you say about him."

"I will speak of him as I please!"

Fuming, the Minister slammed his fist on the red velvet cushion beside him, staring intently at the roaring fire before him. The butler beside him hurried to make sure his tea didn't spill, and when it didn't, he gently set it on the well-polished side table. Frustrated, he tried once more. "Milord, you need to stop speaking of His Highness that way. What if someone were to hear you?"

"They won't! I've ordered everyone to stay clear away unless it's an emergency!"

"And what if there was one?"

"Then we'd have more important matters at hand, wouldn't we?"

"That doesn't mean they'd forget it."

"Paff!" Orville shouted. "I don't care!"

"If you get caught," the butler put in reasonably, "you can't continue your plans with Ganondorf. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

With a defeated sigh, the minister slumped over, draping his arm over the sofa back. "Alright, alright," he muttered. "But as soon as possible, we will commence the plan."

"Of course, Milord."

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><p>Lorene slumped on the plush bed in her chambers. Truthfully, she was worried. Link was treading on thin ice, here. And thin ice had a habit of breaking under pressure.<p>

From years of experience, she knew how easily the frustrating minister tipped over the edge. He did it quite frequently, in their youth. Or, rather, in his youth. She was still young.

Lorene was the daughter of the King's last Minister of Foreign Affairs. She had grown up a lady, tall and majestic, and had lived with the Prince in the castle for years. Sighing, she recalled the sunny, fateful day of their meeting.

_Huddling behind her father's leg, Lorene shyly peeked around it. The tall, dark man conversing with him was intimidating, and she tried even harder to melt into the comforting fabric of her father's pants. There was a flicker behind the King's leg, too. Hmm, what was blonde doing in all that dark clothing? Was it...?_

_With a nervous swallow, Lorene stepped out of her father's shadow and started moving toward whatever it was. "Lori, what are you doing?" she heard, but kept moving, curiosity drowning out everything else. When she reached her destination, she her curiosity piqued._

_There, behind the scary man's legs, was a boy. He had shaggy blonde hair and a little blue suit, complete with a long navy blue coat and a light blue scarf. He was adorable, and unbidden, a smile spread on Lorene's face. "Hi," she began quietly. "Do you want to be friends?" __With a small smile, the boy nodded. "What's your name?"_

_"Link."_

_"Mine's Lorene, but you can call me Lori. Let's go play!"_

Ah, the innocence of youth. How she missed it. If she could, she'd return to the time when she believed her father was immortal, the worst punishment ever was a stern scolding, and everyone was her friend. Now, she had lost her father to illness, she'd had to witness people sentenced to death, and she had plenty of enemies. At least there was Link. She loved him, but only as a younger brother. She'd give her life to keep him safe. Speaking of which, there was still the matter of Conlin.

The minister was a fragile man. She was sure his sanity would've shattered by know, with all the time he'd spent with the Prince, and she was quite surprised he still had it. Though she had a hunch it wouldn't last particularly long. When, though, was a mystery to her.

His Highness was likely to get himself into trouble, with all the mischief he'd been making lately. Lorene was positive Orville would attempt his revenge soon.

She'd just have to watch for it.

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><p><strong>AN: There you go!**

**I sincerely apologize for the amount of time it's taken to write this. Like, I sat down, and I was like, "Imma write this thing!" I had my papers, I had my music, everything. Problem is, I'm not so good at staying on track...**

**Please, don't give up on this story. It'll be long, it'll be difficult, but I will do my best to make it worth it.**

**Review if you can. I'd like that. Also, tips are welcome! I'm a novice (I think) at writing, so any help would really help.**

**Sayonara!**


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